Of Mob Dealers and Bright Smiles
by CanItellyouasecret
Summary: The staff of an Italian restaurant of Downtown Gotham get their day shook up as the Mob Dealers of the city decide to use it as an inconspicuous meeting place to discuss their current predicament. Rated for violence and language but may increase. Joker/OC
1. Bernarducci's

_**"It occurred to me then that the man might not be mad; I found this far more disquieting than the alternative."**_

 _ **― Neil Gaiman**_

* * *

Alison pushed the side of her palm along the tablecloth, smoothing the white cotton down and then tucking it down at the sides. Olivia Bernarducci worked alongside her, humming to the soft Italian music playing in the background of _Bernarducci's_ , her uncles Italian restaurant in Downtown Gotham.  
The place was nice, a little tacky. But not tacky enough that they couldn't still have hefty price tags on the menus. It had a great kitchen though, and three (kinda) spectacular young chefs.

She knew the menu off by heart, she could run the specials by you for each day of the week in a heartbeat. She knew what flavor ice-creams came with each dessert, she knew which dishes contained nuts. And she _hated_ it.

" _Hey_ -" Olivia snapped, abandoning the tune for a moment to point at the cutlery on Alison's table, "-the knives don't go like _that_ , they go like _this_...-" She reached over, adjusting the knife to a position that looked nearly the same as beforehand, "You'd think you'd know that after two years working here."  
Alison looked down at the knife with surprise, then back up at Olivia's smug face, "It looks the exact s-"

" _I_ 'm the head server, _remember_?" Olivia spoke sharply once again, raising an eyebrow, "You do what I _tell_ you," She nodded sarcastically as if talking to a child, " _or_ my Uncle will hear _all_ about it." She smirked slowly with satisfaction as she got back to work, leaving Alison staring blankly and her table expressing a low sigh.

Olivia seemed to make the most out of her position of power by irritating Alison on a daily basis, using her uncles position as owner to threaten her job. She glanced up at the clock, 30 minutes until opening hour. 30 minutes until a grueling 9 hour shift, followed by staying late for clean up. And then she was in early the next day to do it all over again.

"Alison!" Ferny called from the kitchen, "Can you restock the herb shelf? They've been sitting on the floor for days I cant keep scooping rosemary from a cardboard boxes!"

"Yeah!" Alison shouted back, arranging the flowers quickly, "I'll be there in a sec!"

"You should have done that days ago." Olivia placed a hand on her hip as Alison fine tuned the flower arrangement, her patience growing weaker. She stood up straight, turning to Olivia, tempted to remind her that it was supposed to be her task to rearrange the herb shelves. Oh how she love to punch her little tanned face...-

Olivia's face scrunched up, turning her nose up at Alison, "What are you looking at-"

The front door opened, ringing a bell and making the red curtains on the window rattle. Both girls looked towards the sound, Alison looking over her shoulder and Olivia peeping her head to the side.  
Celio Bernarducci stumbled in, his face more red than usual. He slammed the door behind him, making the glass panel shake violently. The stubby Itlalian stormed forward, knocking a chair over in the process and wiping his forehead of sweat. He blasted past the dumbfounded waitresses and through the kitchen doors.

" **STOP** **COOKING!** "

"What the-" Alison frowned, tilting her head again to try and get a look through the kitchen door.

"I said STOP _Stronzo_!" Celio's voice bellowed once again at the three chefs.

"What do you mean stop cooking! We open in half-" Ferny responded with a shout.

"Shut up and _stop_ cooking, we need to get this place not smelling of fucking garlic-!"

"Wh-"

"Turn off the fucking oven-" Olivia's uncle snarled from the kitchen, "-get out. I said get ou _t_ , everyone _out!_ _Cazzo Madre Di Dio_!"

Ferny shouldered his way through the door and out of the kitchen, flinging a washcloth over his shoulder. He was followed by the two other chefs and a fuming Aldo.

Celio stood with his hands on his hips, taking in deep, wheezing inhales. He beckoned them all to listen as he caught his breath, waving his hand and hunching over. "We... we close up shop for a day..."

"A day off!" Ferny raised his eyebrows and Celio shot him a filthy look between his breaths, " _No_. We have people... people coming to use... the kitchen. _People_ are coming to use the kitchen."

The staff stared at him in silence for a moment until Ferny spoke again, "To cook?"

" _No_! _Idiota_!"

"Then for what!?" Ferny threw his hands in the air, "Why do we have to stop cooking? And close up for a day?"

"For none of your fucking business, hah?" Celio slapped the table beside him making Olivia flinch slightly, "All you do is what I say, hm? Maybe stop with the fucking questions, what am I your _Mama_?"

Ferny's hands landing back by his sides, his eyes rolling back as he muttered under his breath.

Celio jabbed a stout finger at Olivia, "Call and cancel any reservations, tell em there's a... one o' those-" He clicked his fingers, "-ahhh gas leaks or somethin' next door, that'll shut 'em up-"  
Olivia pursed her lips, reluctantly dragging herself away from the group and to the phone.

He then thumbed towards the kitchen for Alison, "Clean that place, all the worktops, and try get rid of the fucking garlic...-"  
Alison stepped past him and through into the kitchen to hear him ask the men to get tables together and open up the back door. She turned on the fan and picked up a cloth and spray.

Ferny pushed past her a few moments later, "Sorry there-" He lifted the table beside her up and the the middle of the kitchen floor, "That man...-" He looked at her, shaking his head, "..he's a fucking psycho. He's losing it already." He shoved another table to the middle as Alison wiped them down, "He's gonna have a heart attack one of these days."

"He seems-" Alison reached out to help the chef straighten the table, "- a bit stressed out."

"A bit _stressed out_?" Ferny scoffed, "Its more than that, he's insane-"

"You bad mouthing my blood?" Olivia frowned as she twirled the wet cloth in her hand, winking at Ferny when he turned to look at her, "You said it yourself Liv, he's in too deep-"

"He's still my blood."

"So's half of the mob, I cant bad mouth them either now?"

"Well I wouldn't open you cheeky little mouth today," Olivia raised an eyebrow as Ferny shoved another table into the middle, "Cause you knows that's whose coming over to use this stupid kitchen-"

"Wait..." Alison stopped wiping the table, straightening her elbow and turning towards Olivia, "... _who_?" Olivia gave her a lasting sideways glance before looking once again at Ferny, "Isn't it obvious."

Ferny didn't respond and continued to pick up another table. Olivia watched him for a moment before absentmindedly picking at her nails, "This place was built on a loan from Salvatore _Maroni_ , I mean how else could an oaf like Celio afford this kitchen-"

" _Maroni_?" Alison momentarily forgot about cleaning the table.

"I'm like his, I dunno, _fourth_ cousin _twice_ removed or something." She shrugged it off, acting as if it were no big deal, "But you know Italians, they never forget family ties. And the only reason Celio would be so worked up is over something to do with the him."

"Celio's always worked up." Ferny replied skeptically.

"Not like this and you know it." Olivia lowered her voice and Alison leaned in, frowning to hear every word, "He got in trouble once with Maroni and his guys and it fucked him up badly." She tapped her head, "Like mentally. That's why he's so paranoid all the time."

Alison opened her mouth, slightly taken aback "What happened?"  
Olivia gave her a dirty look, "I don't know, why don't you go _ask_ him."  
Alison raised her hands in defense and Ferny snorted.

" _Anyway_... that's _why_..." She looked around, ".. he'd close up in a heartbeat for him. _Hell_ , he'd do anything for Maroni! When you get in debt with a mob boss you never forget about it."

Alison stared at her, realizing she was totally transfixed by Olivia's unnerving information, "So, you think they're coming here?"

"Mob bosses? Today?" Ferny shook his head, dismissing Olivia's theory, "To do fuckin' what exactly?"

Olivia rolled her eyes, "Do I look like I know what Mob Bosses do in kitchens in broad daylight? All _I_ know is that I will be steering _clear_ of them, I don't want them to even get a whiff of my scent!"  
"That'll be a challenge-" Ferny laughed.

Alison looked away from them, wiping the table once again. They continued to bicker as she thought about the prospect of having Mob bosses sit around these tables, now lined up in one long one. It was far fetched, _right_?  
But it was better than any theory Alison could think up, and why the hell wouldn't Celio tell his own staff what was going on?  
If Olivia was telling the truth... She looked over at Olivia, swishing her dark auburn hair back as she snatched Ferny's chef hat, putting it on playfully.

"Well you know what!?" Ferny exclaimed, sliding across the floor, "If there are mob dealers comin' here today..." He slipped behind Olivia, teasingly undoing her apron from behind. "They better watch out!" He gave her a light peck on the cheek before running away with the tiny black apron thrown over his shoulder like a mini cape. The chef cascaded around the kitchen for a moment before flinging a loose garlic bulb at Olivia like a batarang, hitting her in the head, "Ow! Fuck you Ferny!"

"Cause I'm _the real Batman_!" He opened his arms up wide as Olivia shot the garlic angrily back at him. Ferny dodged it, sending it to the floor, splintering into little pieces of garlic.

"Guys!" Alison exclaimed, moving to try pick up the pieces, "Seriously!"

"No point worrying about garlic-" Ferny flapped the apron around to one side like Dracula, "-when you've got _me_ to worry about. The caped crusader-" He threw the apron into the air as the two girls giggled despite themselves, "-Gotham's hero! The masked-"

"What the are you three _idioti_ supposed to be doing?!"

Ferny snatched the apron from the air, hiding it behind his back as the waitresses turned, their smiles fading. Celio stood at the doorway, his face positively livid, "I don't pay you to fuck around, hah?"

Alison pretended to readjust the table as Ferny shoved the apron back into Olivia's hands behind her back.

"An' I told you to get rid of the _fucking garlic!"_

* * *

 **-Obviously I own nothing to do with DC or Batman**  
 **-Reviews are most welcome, especially for some advice and whatnot.  
-I know nothing about the Italian language and am relying solely on Google Translate, so please correct me of any horrible rookie mistakes!**  
 **-Enjoy!**


	2. Duty Calls

_**"When I was your age they would say we can become cops, or criminals.  
Today, what I'm saying to you is this: when you're facing a loaded gun, what's the difference?" **_

_**-Frank Costello (Jack Nicholson 'The Departed')**_

* * *

Alison stood in the service area of the kitchen, leaning against the wine rack alongside the rest of the staff. Olivia was chewing the inside of her mouth nervously, the sound irritating Ferny who kept shooting her irritated glances.  
Red was out the back smoking, leaving the two waitresses and the two other chefs to stand and wait. Alison had her arms crossed, staring blankly ahead beside Carl, his hands dug deep in his pockets.  
They were all silent, listening to the low humble in the main kitchen. Celio's whooping, fake laugh could be heard through the door, giving no hint as to who he was greeting.

 _"Go outside to the smoking area-" Celio set down the ground rules,"- or stay in the service area, the stock room, hell you can stay in the fucking meat room if you want I don't care." He pointed roughly towards the main kitchen door, "But you don't go into the main fucking kitchen area. Got it? Hm? Or that's the end of your job here, cause you're out on the streets after that, and there ain't nothin' anyone can do for you then."_

"They got security set up." Red closed the door to the smoking area carefully behind him. The smell of fresh cigarettes wafted through the air after him making Olivia curl up her nose in a not so subtle way.

"Huh?" Carl spoke through the toothpick in his mouth, waking up, "What you mean _security_?"

"Like a big metal detectin' door thing n'all." He shook his head, "Like dudeeee, I don' know what this is about... but its no wonder Celio's off his head."

Olivia looked back at Alison and Ferny, her expression dark.

Ferny frowned, "Doesn't mean anything-"

"Who needs security for a kitchen then? Hm?" Olivia pointed out, "C'mon Ferny, since you got _all_ the answers?"  
"I'm just not gonna jump to conclusions like you-" Ferny said loudly and Red tried to _sh_ him, his eyes wary.  
"Do you even know what that phrase means?" Olivia spat back and Red hushed her this time.

"Shut the fuck up Red!" Olivia glared at him, "Your shushing is louder than any of us!"  
"Olivia-" Alison began and she was interrupted by Olivia giving her a loud and exaggerated **SHHHHHHH.**

"What the he _ll_ is wrong with you-" Alison put her hand out to grab Olivia's finger she had placed on her lips. Carl pulled her back by the shoulder, "Al, give it a res-"

The bickering faded as Celio stepped through the door from the kitchen, his face darker than ever, so much so it was bordering on purple. He closed the door silently behind him before turning to his five workers, eyes almost popping out, " _Shut_." He whispered harshly, " _The. Fuck. Up_."

Ferny shuffled ever so slightly and a wine bottle made a soft clinking sound behind him. Celio stared at him for a few tense seconds before spitting his next words out, " _Get. Out_."

The five gladly looked away from him. Alison turned to follow Red out to the smoking area, followed by Olivia and Carl.

"Two girls, stay."Alison and Olivia stopped in their tracks. They exchanged a very brief look of confusion, Alison narrowing her eyes. Olivia's face, normally so confident and smug, was laced with fear, of her uncle and what he had to say. Carl stepped in front of Olivia, his chest brushing softly off Alison's shoulder as he turned to get by.

"So, listen-"

Olivia reacted immediately to the sound of his voice, rushing to his side and her hands anxiously fiddling with the hem of her skirt.

"They want some stuff in there-"

The waitresses looked at him blankly.

"-some refreshments."

Alison expressed a silent "Ohh."

"Set up somethin' for our _guests_." The word came out in a bitter tone, "Gin, whiskey, I don't fuckin' know..-" He looked over at the bar, "-just don' be stupid, no Cosmo-fuckin'-politans alrigh?"

"O-okay." Olivia spoke, obviously trying to inject some last minute confidence into herself.

" _Nooo_..." Celio rolled his head around like an ostrich as if his niece had never said anything as stupid in her life, "Not _O-o-okayyy_!" He mocked her viciously, "Its not that fuckin' easy! Ya don' talk unless someones talkin' _to_ ya, ya don't look 'em in the eye, ya don't _listen_ in on anything, alright?! All ya gotta do is pour the drinks and look pretty..-"

The girls nodded as he rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of a scorching headache, "Just do you're fuckin' jobs, I gotta go get some air-"

"Um, Sir?" Alison voiced before Celio could leave them, "Can, can I just ask...-... Eh, who is it? That we're serving?"

Celio looked at her like she'd ruined his day. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples before glancing at her once again, "Family." When Alison didn't respond he tapped her lightly on the shoulder in a meek way of showing support, "And a few friends, hah!" He didn't look like he wanted to laugh, "Don't worry-"  
Their boss walked to the smoking area door, his footing staggered, "-you'll fit right i-"  
Celio lurched forward, splattering vomit onto the pavement of the smoking area, into the side alley of the restaurant. As he stumbled out and closed the door the two girls could hear Ferny on the other side, his cursing muffled.

Alison winced at the sound, holding her breath before exhaling deeply. By the looks of it, it was the mob in there. Except Alison didn't even know who exactly the 'Mob' was. So _Maroni_ is the Bernarducci's somewhat distant relation. She instantly pictured him as the classic Italian mafia guy, a little mustache and a cigar, the Godfather... And then who else?  
Alison didn't know much about the underground workings of Gotham city, _in fact_ , she scratched her nose absentmindedly... Alison didn't know a bloody thing.

She could vaguely recall hearing about some Falcone guy going to Arkham a while back, that was big news for a while... but that was about it. Unfortunately, she'd tried to abstain from reading the newspapers these days, because in Gotham, it was always bad. Violence, crime, death... every day there was something new in the news.

"I'm not going in."

"Huh?" Alison turned her head to look at a white faced Olivia, her face knotted up in a mixture of disgust and fear.

"I'm not going in there. I-" She shook her head fiercely.

"What do you m-"

"-I _told_ you, I fucking _told_ you who it was going to be..-"

"It doesn't matter!" Alison held her hands up, "It doesn't matter who it is, we still have to it! Its just a job-"

"I don't care-" Olivia grabbed the side of her head, her hands beginning to rake through her dark hair violently.

"Wow, wait... Sh-" Alison grabbed Olivia's arms, trying to calm her.

"I don't want to go anywhere _near_ them. I told you and Ferny earlier!" Olivia's eyes were wild, and for a second Alison could see the resemblance, a tiny bit of her uncle shining through, "I don't want them to _see my face_. Cause you don't _know_! You don't know what its like, what _they're_ like, what they do to people-"

"Why are so worked up! We're waitresses!" Alison had been somewhat expecting this to occur, you don't bring some of the mob into your kitchen without offering them a drink, "Did you not think maybe we'd have to do _something_?"

" _No_!" Olivia stuck out her chin, "I thought we were just gonna stay out here and I dunno, supervise!"

"Supervise _what_? The bloody parsnips?"

"I'm _not_ doing it!" She replied with a stamp of her foot, like a toddler having a tantrum.

"So you're telling me that... there's _gangsters_ and _mob dealers_ in there who want a drink..." Alison asked, desperately trying to get through to her coworker, -"and you're going to tell them _no?_! They're not going to do anything to you if you _do what they say!_ Its just pouring a drink for some customers, that's all it is. Its like every other day."

Olivia shoved Alison's grip away as she planted her face in her hands, realizing she had no choice. "I need to go out... and have a smoke, before I can face this. It'll calm me down."

"No." Alison replied, "You don't want to smell bad."

"Why does is matter what we _smell_ like? Do you want them to _like_ you or something?"

"Well I sure as hell don't want them to _dislike_ me-"

Olivia snorted into her palms, "Hah! Oh God-" She looked up, slapping her hands onto the table in surrender, "-we're fucked."

"Just...-" Alison looked around her, lost without Celio or Olivia giving her orders, "-... I don't kn.. Get a trolley? Put some bottles on the bottom." She looked up at the bottles sitting in the rack behind them, twirling some so she could read the tops, "And a few glasses on top, and then we can be out as quickly as possible."

Olivia inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She then opened them quickly, exhaled in a huff and patted down her apron, "Fine. Okay... Jesus... lets, lets do it. If this goes balls up though! I'm blaming you-"

She wheeled the little metal trolley over and Alison passed her a bottle of scotch to put on it.  
"How many people do you think are in there? Like how many glasses?" Alison held a small spirit glass up.

"Um, I dunno," Olivia glanced back to the kitchen door, "Like three?"

"Three?" Alison frowned, thinking about the number.

"Well we don't wanna bring to many, we'll look like idiots."

"Yeah but if we don't bring enough we'll look like idiots too?"

The two girls looked at each other in silence, listening only to the low mumble from outside which was probably Ferny.

"Maybe you should go in and check." Olivia suggested.

" _Shut up_." Alison knitted her brows, putting another two glasses onto the trolley, "If we have too come back and get more its fine."

Olivia looked at the glasses, her face more concentrated than Alison had ever seen, "I mean, it doesn't _sound_ like there's many people in there-" They listened into the silence once again, "-but, three glasses seems a bit-"  
They looked down at the trolley, the glasses looking very lonely on their own compared to the 6 or 7 bottles on the bottom.

Alison took two more glasses and put them down, "Five. If you're having a mob meeting you don't invite everyone, you invite, like, your closest guys. There wont be any more than that. Only the ones you trust right? The inner circle."

Olivia looked at her, her face puzzled, " _What_... are you basing that on?"

"Well-" Alison shook her head, "-Do you have any better theories?"

"This isn't the fucking _Departed_ -" Olivia stared at her, "-You're not gonna find Leonardo Di Caprio in there ya know?"

"Jesus-" Alison took the handle of the trolley, "-You're really fuckin' annoying did you know that."

"Yea well _you_ ain't no ray of sunshine yourself-" She ushered Alison and the trolley forward, "-and lets _go_ , we're already behind time-.."

"Why do I have to go first?" Alison stepped forward to the kitchen door.

"Cause you have the trolley."

"So why can't you take the trolley?"

"Cause you're goin' first."

"Wait, wait," Alison stopped just before the door, "Just... one more thing... What does Martoni look like?"

"A martini? I don't think any of 'em are gonna want one o' those," Olivia replied, "I don't even know how to make one, do you?"

"No, _Martoni_. Salvatore Martoni, the guy?"

"Huh?" Olivia snapped, "No! Don't say that, Jesus! You might as well call him Macaroni! Do you want to get us both _killed?_! Its Mar _oni_!"

"Oh!" Alison readjusted her shirt, pulling at the collar, "Mar _oni_? Oh, okay. Right. But what does he look like?"

"What? I dunno!" Olivia looked at her like she was going insane.

Alison gripped onto the handle of the trolley, looking back over her shoulder at Olivia, "I thought you were related to him?"

"F _ourth_ cousin _twice_ re-move-d." Olivia spoke bluntly behind her, "I've never seen him, I doubt he even knows I exist."

"What?!" Alison looked straight ahead at the now daunting door, "We don't even know what he looks-"

"We don't _need_ to _know_. Ya don' talk unless someones talkin' _to_ ya, remember?" Olivia whispered her uncles words harshly into Alison's ear, "You don't even look em in the eye. Get in, get out. Like you said, right?"

" _Right_." Alison muttered.

"Just a job, an _easy_ job. Just like you told me. Pourin' some drinks for some customers. Like every other day. Yeah?"

" _Yeah_." Alison whispered as she pushed the kitchen door open softly with the front of the trolley. _Like every other day._

* * *

 **-If you haven't watched 'The Departed', go watch it.**  
 **-Enjoy!**


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